Pastimes

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Toward there, and the way it possesses —
spanning all my past and future,
I walk behind a shadow of mine,
and hope to shine one day…

I see the end, and the start,
having been through point to line;
always so close to success —
but does desire ever cease, this way?

New hope, and old remembrance;
an old suit, and a fake smile again;
and I believe in yesterday,
when expectation hangs of its own…

Love was easy, and breath;
but with its going, I was lost —
in today’s end, today’s success,
walking alone behind myself, today.

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